


if i say i love you (say it back)

by forbiddenquill



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 22:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2484374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forbiddenquill/pseuds/forbiddenquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The three times Carmilla told Laura she loved her and the one time Laura finally understood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if i say i love you (say it back)

**Author's Note:**

> Carmilla has taken over my life.

 

Of course, the first time she says it, Laura is barely breathing.  

Things with Will and her Mother have proven to be direr than she expected. Of course, she expected a punishment from dear Mother and a taunting from Will. Of course, she expected a few more centuries stuck inside a coffin full of blood. What she _didn’t_ expect was Will sneaking in into her dorm and nearly tearing her roommate’s throat apart.

She’s just coming back from a nightly walk, her hands shoved into her pockets as she climbs the stairs to her dorm. She’s thinking about the past few days and how much it seems like an adventure. First, the girl she has a crush on asks her out on a date. Second, she _nearly_ gets a kiss but somehow ends up being tied to a chair for the next ten days. Third, she spills her entire life story and protects her said crush from being killed by her adoptive brother. Yep. Some story.

She should hate Laura. Hell, she has every right to. But somehow, she doesn’t. Maybe it has something to do with the way Laura talks in incredibly long sentence or the way her face scrunches with distaste whenever Carmilla says something rude or annoying. Maybe it’s the way she never gives up on those missing girls and the way she never backs down from a fight, even though she knows that she’s going to lose. Maybe it’s the way she looks at Carmilla sometimes, as if she’s something fragile and beautiful, like a valuable rare diamond you only see once in your life.

And Carmilla doesn’t hate her. Somehow, she doesn’t.

She’s reached her floor when she smells the blood and hears the scream—the scream that seems to pierce her ears. For a moment, she’s stunned and then her vampire senses kick in and she’s running across the hallway, heedless of the panic that’s clutching at her throat. She’s thinking of Will and her Mother and basically every bad thing that could’ve caused that person— _Oh God please don’t let it be Laura—_ to scream. If her heart was still beating, it would’ve been on overdrive by now. Her mouth feels too dry, and that only happens when she hasn’t fed for a few days. Her fingers are closing and opening, as if she’s preparing for a fight and yes, that’s _exactly_ what she’s doing and oh, she can’t breathe again.

Somehow, the rest of the entire floor continues on sleeping because by the time Carmilla reaches her room, the door is slammed shut. Tears make their way behind her eyes, stinging them painfully as she pounds against the wooden door, desperately trying not to scream. The smell of blood is overwhelming now and she can almost taste it on her tongue. It tastes too much of sugar and she squeezes her eyes shut because she only knows one person who has too much sugar in their blood.

She pauses for half a second, wondering what would happen if she _doesn’t_ go inside. Of course, Mother will flick her wrist and Laura Hollis’s disappearance will go unnoticed. Carmilla will be whisked away to some place to wait out a few more years before she can come back to Silas and seduce another girl into Mother’s clutches. It’ll hurt, of course but she’ll get over it. Like she did with—

No. It doesn’t feel right.

“Laura!” she’s screaming now, not caring about the fact that she sounds broken and scared and terrified. It’s happening again. It’s happening all over again. She thinks of Elle and her Mother, thinks of the moment she was slammed shut into the coffin, thinks of the horror and fear in Elle’s face before she was cut off from the rest of the world for hundreds of years. She thinks of Laura, of her smile and of the adorable way she talks and of how she said ‘ _Even you deserve better_.’ She thinks about Elle and Laura, thinks of how alarmingly similar they both are and she clenches her fists because _she’s not going to lose Laura._ No. Not after Elle. Not after what happened.

So, instead of giving up because Will is centuries stronger than she is and because the door seems to be made of iron rather than wood, she curls her hands into fists and throws her body against the wooden frame, relishing the _crack_ she hears. She repeats the movement again and the door moves, treacherously slow. The smell of blood makes her mouth water but it’s the thought of Laura that keeps her going. She doesn’t even care if Mother finds out what she’s doing because damn it, Laura is worth a few hundred years in a coffin full of blood.

Finally, when her shoulder hits the door for the fifth time, it gives way and she stumbles gracefully inside. Even though the room is dark for the human eyes, she can see Will towering over Laura, his pale skin seemingly fuller and fairer in death. That’s what happens when you drink fresh blood. Carmilla freezes because Will is turning around and looking at her with lips full of blood. His dark eyes are glinting with a crazed frenzy that makes something inside her twist.

“You’re too late,” he says and before Carmilla can end his life right there and then, he hurries towards the open window and leaps out, his laugh reverberating in her ears.

For a moment, she’s still but then a strangled cry reaches her ears because she’s running towards Laura, where she’s fallen on the floor amidst some clothes and books. Carmilla’s eyes searches her face, glad to see that the other girl is breathing and looking at her with wide eyes. She’s breathing shallowly, though and her eyes are glazed with a dullness that makes Carmilla fear that she’s already gone. But Laura’s hand finds her way to hers and she squeezes the vampire’s fingers once. Weakly.

Will did quite damage on her. There are two large puncture wounds on her neck, just below the main artery and for a moment, Carmilla has to wonder why her adoptive brother hadn’t just snapped her neck and be done with it already. But she’s too busy assessing just how much time Laura has before she loses the fight between life and death. The blood is flowing through her fingers in thick steady streams and Carmilla is trying to stop it.

“Don’t die on me, cupcake,” Carmilla whispers, leaning down and kissing Laura’s forehead. The other girl’s eyes flutter shut as Carmilla’s grip tightens on her hand. “Don’t die on me, okay? I’ll keep you safe. Okay?”

And her ‘I’ll keep you safe’ sounds like ‘I love you’ to her own ears.

She dabs a cloth to Laura’s neck and carries her to the nearest hospital.

And the next day, Laura’s stable enough to murmur ‘Thank you’ to Carmilla when she visits.

.

The second time she says it, Laura is asleep and her confession falls on deaf ears.

After being released from the hospital, Laura seems nicer to her and less annoying. There’s a bandage wrapped around her neck and she’s a bit pale nowadays but at least she’s alive. At least she’s okay. Carmilla is beyond relieved to have the other girl walking around and making videos even after the amount of attacks she’s been through. She’s strong, durable and not totally fragile and Carmilla admires that. She keeps it to herself, though. She doesn’t know how Laura would react if she found out about her semi-confession. Hell, she doesn’t even want to think about it. For now, she’s satisfied just with the way things are.

And yet…she can’t help but feel frustrated. She doesn’t really know what she wants but she does know that it’s not _this_ , teetering around the elephant in the room, ignoring something that’s so obvious she’s surprised the entire university doesn’t see it. She doesn’t want to stay cooped up in this dorm with her walls up and Laura getting in every now and then. She wants _more._ Yes. That’s it. It’s not entirely the answer but it’s _something_.

She wants more.

Laura’s preparing to go to bed when Carmilla walks in from her nightly walk. The room still feels strange to her. She can’t help but remember Will standing over Laura’s bloody body and Laura bleeding on the floor and barely hanging on for dear life. Surprisingly enough, Laura walks into this room, smiling and happy to be home, almost as if nearly hadn’t gotten killed here.

“Hello, I’m not doing anything.” Laura says and Carmilla notices the twitchy way she moves.

“You’re jumpy,” she drawls.

“Habit,” Laura answers and she’s about to say more when her outdated phone rings. Carmilla shuts the door behind her and crawls into her bed, not even a bit surprised when she finds out that Laura’s bright and yellow pillow is now back in Laura’s turf. She shrugs off her leather jacket and pulls off her combat boots, noticing that Laura’s camera is turned off for the remainder of the night.

“Who is it?” Carmilla asks when Laura drops her phone back on the bed.

“Danny,” Laura answers, nervously running her fingers through her hair. The bandage on her neck is a reminder of what has happened and Carmilla closes her eyes briefly, trying to push away the image of Laura bleeding in her arms.

“She’s been calling you nonstop for the past few days,” Carmilla points out.

“She’s been worried. Well, maybe more than worried. She’s protective. I mean, that’s what happens when your friend nearly gets killed by your adoptive brother but hey, no one’s judging.”

“If she could, I think she’d sleep in the floor if that meant she could keep an eye on you,” Carmilla remarks.

“She offered.”

Carmilla exhales a laugh            as she places her hands behind her head, admiring the way Laura is nervously biting her lower lip and staring at her phone, which lies on top of her yellow pillow. It almost looks as if she’s debating with herself and it makes Carmilla wonder what the hell she’s thinking about.

“If you have to say something, you should just spit it out,” she says.

“Okay! Okay!” Laura turns towards her, hazel eyes full of yearning and apprehension. “I never really got to thank you properly after what happened. Well, I _did_ thank you but that was mostly because of the morphine and I was half-asleep by then and I really just want to say a lengthy thank you speech that will get you to not be annoyed constantly by me. Did—did you understand what I just said?”

Carmilla is struggling to keep the smile off her face as she says, “Yeah. I did. Vaguely.”

“Good.” Laura exhales, closing her eyes and pinching her nose. “Good. Now I’m going to go to bed. Thanks, Carm.”

And she shuts off her nightlight, puts her phone under her yellow pillow and crawls under the covers. In a few seconds of awkward tense silence, Carmilla hears Laura’s breathing even out.

“God, what the hell have I gotten myself into?” she murmurs to nothing in particular as she runs her fingers through her dark curls, squeezing her eyes shut and forcing the memories of Elle and that coffin away. If her heart was still alive, it’d be beating nonstop right now.

“Damn it, cupcake,” she finds herself saying and her logic and instinct is telling her to _shut the hell up_ but she can’t because she’s through hiding her goddamn emotions. “I—I can’t believe I’m saying this but I care about you. A lot. Almost to the point that I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Her ‘I care about you’ sounds suspiciously like ‘I love you’ now.

She looks back at Laura, expecting to see the younger girl sitting up and gaping at her with wide eyes.

But Laura is already asleep.

.

The third time she says it, she says it loud and clear but Laura doesn’t understand.

It starts off with a fight. Nervous and ticked off that her mother hasn’t reprimanded—or _punished_ —her for protecting a mortal, Carmilla isn’t in much of a good mood when Laura walks in after a so called study session with her tall ginger TA. She’s smiling and giddy and in such bright sprits that it deepens Carmilla’s sour mood.

“What’s up with you?” Laura says nosily after she’s shut the door and deposited all her books on the table. Her brown hair is tied in a ponytail and Carmilla’s dark eyes drift to her exposed neck. The bandage is gone but if Carmilla looks closely enough, she’ll see the two puncture wounds there. Just barely visible. Oh, it’d be such a pleasure to drink off Laura again, even if that means tasting blood that has the flavor of processed sugar. She quickly shakes off the thoughts because she’s _better_ than that.

“Not much,” her mouth says even though her brain isn’t up to working. She surprises herself by adding, “Just busy enjoying the wonderful woes of being locked up in a room with a brat like you.”

Laura turns on her computer and glances over at Carmilla, who is glaring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the other girl’s persistent gaze.

“Okay,” Laura says slowly and deliberately, straightening up and staring at Carmilla curiously. “Now I _know_ something’s wrong. You don’t usually get snarky unless something’s bugging you. And besides, we’re past all of that, since you’ve saved my life over and over again.”

Carmilla sits up, her body tense and coiled, like a spring about to pounce. She feels as if there’s a sledgehammer pounding against her eyelids and God, it’s so _frustrating._ Radio silence from her Mother. Well-hidden taunts and jeers from Will. Laura looking at her as if she’s a human being and not a _monster_ who’s kidnapped girls for centuries. She wants to scream. She wants to bite off someone’s neck. She wants to destroy something—hurt and mercilessly ruin someone’s life but instead, she finds herself saying,

“Are we really past all of that?”

Laura tilts her head to the side. “Uhm, yes. Usually, when someone saves your life, you’re sort of in debt with them. And since I’m short of money right now, I’m trying to be the type of roommate who doesn’t tie you to a chair and make you carry me to hospital miles away.”

“God, I wish you were the annoying roommate you were back then,” Carmilla remarks, her anger simmering to exhaustion she hasn’t felt in years. “It would’ve been a lot easier.”

Laura’s face pinches. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I wish I hadn’t saved you, _cupcake_.” The anger and frustration is back now and she straightens up her spine, silently relishing Laura’s flinch. “If I had just let you bleed out on this floor, Mother could’ve easily cleaned up and I wouldn’t have to explain myself. I would’ve had the luxury of living a few more years in the surface rather than rotting inside a coffin full of blood!”

“I didn’t ask you to save me,” Laura snaps and her face pinches more now.

“But you asked me to _stay_ ,” Carmilla retorts. “You practically begged me to.”

“I did _not_ ,” Laura sneers. “Besides, you didn’t really need that much convincing.”

Carmilla’s lips pull back to show a snarl. She can feel her fangs aching, wanting to pop out and— _No,_ her inner thoughts scream at her, _no, you can’t bite her._ Instead, she forces herself to clench her fists and take three even breaths, even though she doesn’t need it. _Habit,_ she thinks.

“Well, I can’t stand it anymore,” she mutters angrily, “I’m not going to risk my existence for you, creampuff.”

She moves towards the closet, meaning to take out her duffel bag, shove her clothes inside and just leave. She can go to Europe again or maybe somewhere in Asia. Just some place far away from her Mother and Will and—

Laura’s voice stops her again. “So, that’s _it_? You save my life, get scared and just leave?”

“I should’ve done so earlier,” Carmilla says and she hates herself because she can hear her voice cracking. “I should’ve never listened to you. I should’ve never stayed.”

She hears Laura inhale a deep breath behind her. “Carmilla, you’re not thinking this through.”

“Actually, I have.” She twists around, glaring at the hurt look on Laura’s face. “I _knew_ better, okay? I knew that I should’ve have gotten close to you. I knew that I shouldn’t have saved you from Will the first time and I sure as hell knew that I shouldn’t have saved you from him the second time.”

“Then why did you?” Laura demands. “If I was more than you bargained for, then why did you do it, even though you knew better?”

“Why?” For a half a heartbeat, she’s stumped. Then the question almost sounds _offending_ to her ears. “ _Why_? Isn’t it obvious? Damn it, creampuff, don’t you _get_ it?”

Laura crosses her arms, agitation and confusion masking her features. “Get what?”

Carmilla lets out a humorless laugh. She runs her fingers through her dark curls and closes her eyes briefly.

“I _chose_ you, you dimwit,” she says, “I chose you when I gave you that charm. I chose you when I accepted your offer to that party. I chose you when I decided to tell you my oh so tragic life story. I chose you when Will was going to bite off your neck. I chose you when I was going to leave. I chose you when he attacked you the second time. God, don’t you get it? I chose you over and over again. I _always_ choose you.”

Laura’s face is now full of apprehension and shock. The silence stabs multiple wounds into Carmilla’s heart as every second continues to torture her relentlessly. She doesn’t know why she said that but now that it’s out in the open (her ‘I chose you’ sounds like ‘I love you’ because there are different ways you can say I love you to someone and Carmilla feels as if she’s said every version) she’s willing to shove her heart out in the open because it’s better than leaving without saying the unsaid things in her head.

“I—I don’t understand,” Laura finally admits and Carmilla’s heart breaks.

“Of course you don’t,” Carmilla mutters, her shoulders slumping in defeat, “I was stupid to think you would.” Sometimes, she wonders what would happen if she’d really say the damned words out loud ( _I’ll keep you safe I care about you I chose you I love you I love you I love you)_ but she doesn’t. She fears that if she does, Laura will ask, _but why_? And Carmilla can’t bear that type of humiliation.

Carmilla looks at Laura once more before turning around and leaping out the window, her heart leaving pieces of itself along the way.

.

The fourth time she says it, it sounds like a promise.

Carmilla’s been avoiding Laura for a while now, only coming in to their room when Laura’s in class or fast asleep. But Carmilla’s stupid if she thinks that Laura hasn’t been thinking about her. It’s obvious that Laura’s waiting for the vampire to come back, since she leaves chocolate chip cookies lying around. There was even a time, when Carmilla crawled in from the window, that Laura had left her champagne. The shock of seeing the bottle was unsettling and she left the way she came.

Carmilla knows that she can’t elude the other girl forever. It’s not like she can just drop off the face of Silas. Mother and Will would find her. They always do. So, sticking around is her only choice and sticking around means facing Laura. The thought of being in the same room as her is both painful and satisfying.

So, on Tuesday night, when Carmilla knows that Laura will be exhausted after her 18-hour workday, she sneaks in a little after midnight and lights up some candles. The orange glow of the flames calms her down a bit and she forces away the thoughts of dark coffin to the deepest parts of her head. Her eyes are well adjusted to the dark, unlike a mortal’s. Pulling off her black shirt and peeling off her jeans, she’s thinking about how it’d be such a relief if Laura would somehow stay safe and leave. She doesn’t want to think about the fact that it’d be painful as well. She’s reaching into the refrigerator and touching the rim of her milk box when lights—much brighter than the candle—flares up all around her. She squints against the sudden brightness, her eyes adjusting slightly.

“I knew you’d come back.”

Laura is sitting up on her bed, her brown hair tousled around her head. She’s grinning in a way that lights up her eyes and Carmilla’s breath catches in her throat painfully. God, she wishes that she can shut down the way her heart seems to be rising and beating for this naïve little girl.

“Of course I would,” Carmilla tries to say indifferently, straightening her back and slamming the refrigerator door shut. “It’s one half of my room, buttercup.”

“Well, you’ve been ignoring me for the past few weeks,” Laura points out, “I was starting to think you might’ve packed up your bags and left for Switzerland.”

“Hmm.” Carmilla idly picks at the surface of cabinet, trying to avert Laura’s persistent gaze. “I wouldn’t go too far. I have to justify saving you somehow, after all.”

“I thought you said you wished you hadn’t saved me,” Laura murmurs.

Carmilla looks over at her. Laura runs a hand through her hair and nervously holds her gaze. The silence is suffocating but Carmilla can’t help but feel as if it is needed, somehow. Maybe in the silence, they’ll both realize something. Problem is; Carmilla doesn’t know what she’s supposed to realize.

“Were you just sleeping?” she asks instead, not acknowledging the question.

Laura doesn’t seem to be happy about the abrupt change of topic. “I was,” she answers, “but I woke up when I heard you crawling in from the window. You _do_ know there’s a door, right?”

“I’m well aware of the fact.” Carmilla forces her legs to move and walks over to her bed, sitting down on the mattress and shoving the blankets aside. She ignores the urge to say something that she might regret later on.

“So, have you decided to start living here again?”

“Can you really live in a place you sometimes think of as prison?” Carmilla gently murmurs and Laura falls into another well-earned silence.

It’s both foreign and strange, hearing the silence instead of Laura’s usual chatter. Carmilla settles in between her pillow and the wall, her hand shooting out to grab a book from the shelf. She feigns interest on the title but what she’s really doing is waiting for Laura to make the next move. She feels as if she’s a hunter prowling in the grasses of the wild, staring at lions hunting on their own prey. She can feel the tension and anticipation, like a spring coiled nearly to its breaking point.

Finally, Laura says, “Are you going to keep ignoring me?”

“Are you ever going to stop being such an annoying brat?” Carmilla shoots back.

Laura lets out an impatient sigh, her nose pinching with annoyance.

Carmilla flips the pages of the book and ignores Laura’s persistent staring.

“Are you going to leave?” Laura asks, in a surprisingly small voice.

Carmilla looks up, stunned at how completely vulnerable Laura looks at this moment. Her shoulders are sagging and there seems to be an empty glaze in her eyes. It makes something in Carmilla’s chest twist painfully, like someone’s stabbed her there and turned the knife. Worse, the annoyed look has passed, resembling something close to sadness.

And it’s so _strange_ because Carmilla has never come across a human who would genuinely feel saddened at the thought of her leaving.

“Why do you ask that?” Carmilla says.

Laura shrugs. “Well, it’s something that has crossed my mind.”

“I’m not going to leave you,” Carmilla says before she can stop herself and she’s surprised by how convicted she sounds. Sure, she’s broken a few promises in the past but when her eyes lock with Laura’s, it’s almost as if they both know that this is going to be different.

And it sounds like ‘I love you’ as well.

Something clicks in Laura’s eyes and she leans back, looking completely baffled.

“Oh,” she says. She pauses for a while, weighing her next words. “Are you serious?”

“Depends on my mood,” Carmilla grumbles.

Laura cracks a grin and shakes her head. “I think I get it now,” she says and it’s obvious she’s struggling to fight off her smile but it’s just too big. She takes her yellow pillow into her hands and squeezes it with her arms and Carmilla rolls her eyes, even though she feels like smiling as well.

“Get what?” she asks innocently.

“You—you know,” Laura tries to explain but obviously failing. There are two red patches on her cheeks. She runs her fingers through her hair and exhales out a deep breath. When Carmilla doesn’t say anything, she raises her eyes and continues, “I—well, you know. The seduction eyes. The flirting. The saving me from your adoptive brother. I get it now. I totally freaking get it.”

Carmilla’s grip tightens on her book. “Then spit it out, cupcake.”

Laura opens her mouth to say more but decides against it. Instead, she slides off the bed and moves over to sit on Carmilla’s. The vampire tenses but Laura stays on her spot, looking at her with determination. The silence is suffocating but Carmilla stays still, knowing what’s probably going to happen next and being not sure if she wants it or not.

Finally, Laura says, “I get it.”

Carmilla leans forward and kisses her.

The kiss is tentative and slow at first, like getting into a bath but not knowing if it’s hot or cold. Carmilla drops her book and leans over Laura, her hands coming to rest on the other girl’s waist. She can feel herself warming up to the kiss, smiling giddily when Laura opens her mouth for more access. They stay that way for a while, locked in their small little bubble. Finally, Carmilla pulls away and her eyes flutter open to see Laura smiling like the dimwit she is.

“Yeah,” Laura whispers, “I totally get it now.”

“Dimwit,” Carmilla mutters under her breath.

Laura kisses her anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I know. I know. Carmilla didn't really say the three letter words out loud but hey, there really are different ways you can tell someone you love them. You just gotta listen.


End file.
